The Forgotten Land
by With Our Heads Held High
Summary: Having failed to save the ten known territories of Halla, Bobby finds himself in a new land, the final territory, Saint Dane's territory. With just one final hope for Halla and for himself, Bobby may find out that evil is not always what it seems.
1. Prologue: Birth of a Terror

Author's Note: Hello everybody! My name, for want of a better one, is Danny. This is my first ever fanfiction, although I have written some original works under a different name. A few points of interest before I start the show.

I own neither Pendragon nor Runescape. They belong to D.J. MacHale and JaGex respectively.

Though most of this story takes place from Bobby's POV, I will NOT being using the journal format. There are many reasons, the most simple being that I don't like the motif and I like using other POVs. I'll create an in-story excuse for why there are no more journals.

This story takes place after Raven Rise but before Soldiers of Halla. Specifically, it takes place after Bobby has killed Naymeer and Second Earth is lost. However, I am not taking Bobby into the flume to meet Press and the other Travelers. The helicopter lands and my story begins.

I have decided that the turning point for Second Earth is the turning point for Third Earth as well, just as how the turning point for First Earth could've taken down all three. In short, the ten known territories have all fallen.

I believe that is everything. Enjoy! (I hope)

Prologue: Birth of a Terror

_Several Thousand Years Ago_

The man took a sip of his wine and placed it on the table. "No one is to touch this," he said to those foolish enough to follow him. "I'll be right back." For days he had been pondering the meaning of a strange text he had found in the Cavern of the Gods. "Halla," it read. "Ten united, One Forgotten." The man adjusted his robes and went off, using simple magic to confer with his most loyal servants. Seventeen beings, cloaked in shadow.

"Friends and allies," he began, "I have come across what may be the greatest secret of creation. There is a tunnel, far below the Swamp, that goes on until eternity. What lies beyond it? Halla, or so the ancient scriptures tell us. And so now, I give you a task. Find the way to traverse the tunnel, and you shall be rewarded. Fail, and perish."

The Seventeen quailed before the ice-blue gaze of their master. Powerful as they were, none doubted the capabilities of their liege to end their existence. Each scoured the land, going to the most ancient and sacred places, studying the old laws, searching for the answer: Deep dungeons of the north, the dense forests of the west, the harsh deserts to the south. Their master remained in the lair, growing steadily more impatient. After a time, he returned to the cavern.

_What could it mean?_ _What is this Halla?_ The man stared deep into the tunnel. The walls were made of a strange gray rock. He began to walk down the tunnel, wondering if he could reach a physical destination. Many miles later, he abandoned the quest and returned to the mouth of the cave to find that the cave had changed. The was now a star at the mouth of the cave, and a words formed in the man's mind: Denduron, Cloral, Earth, Veelox, Eelong, Zadaa, and Quillan.

The man suddenly knew. Those words were the keys to Halla. "Denduron," he said. Rolling the word off his tongue as if he were trying a food to see how it tasted. An odd word, but he could sense the power in it. That was when the tunnel changed once more. Bright light filled the tunnel, and the gray rocks changed into clear crystals. Music played, an odd, not unpleasant jumble of notes that seemed to be coming forward. The man felt an odd tug, and he knew. The words would take him to Halla.

Far away, in a land akin to no physical world, another robed man looked down in displeasure.

The music and the light pulled the man along down the tunnel. After a time, gravity kicked in, and the man found himself on top of a mountain. He instinctively knew where he was: Denduron, a world of Halla. The man was concerned; the land did not give off the same energy that his homeland had. That energy is what fueled his magic, and he was uncertain if he could use his abilities in this strange place. A quick investigation showed him that his High Magic still worked, but his simple magic, his only attack magic, he realized with a frown, was rendered useless.

Transforming into a raven, the man decided to investigate the new place. The quick search showed him that this world, as well as all the worlds of Halla, were disgustingly focused on _order_ and _peace_ and _justice_. The man knew, though, that it would be no difficult matter to change the very nature of this world. On Denduron, he found a simple turning point, a single event in the history of the land that, when changed, would affect the entire future of the world. And so it was that Denduron became a land of evil surrounded by worlds of peace.

Exhilarating as it was to spread chaos, the man was bitterly disappointed by what Halla had to offer. None of the worlds had any energy. It was a waste of time. He returned to the cavern and told it to take him home. The tunnel did not activate. He shouted, he screamed, he orders the tunnel to take him home, but it obstinately refused. _What has changed?_ He wondered. If he was trapped in Halla, he would need to adopt a new name. He examined all the languages he knew and picked a name that pleased him: The Saint of Death, Saint Dane.

_Present Day_

Saint Dane stood at the mouth of the flume, laughing like the madman he was. Bobby Pendragon, his mortal enemy, knelt on the floor in front of him, defeated. He turned to his right and spoke to his only ally in all of Halla. "It is over, Nevva. What was once begun has finally been completed. Halla is no longer even of consequence. Now I can finally look beyond."

"Now _w_e can finally look beyond," Nevva said, almost as a point of protest. "Do not forget my contribution. Now _we_ can look beyond the twisted past and put these people on the right course."

"Not quite, I'm afraid." Saint Dane sneered at his naïve underling. "I care not for these foolish people. I never did, in fact. I simply needed this place. Still, I suppose you deserve a reward for changing the nature of Halla and organizing its destruction. I suppose you have earned being spared the sight of your failure." Saint Dane laughed once more as a look of comprehension failed to reach Nevva's features. She simply did not understand. Then again, she never really did. Just as she finally started to understand, Saint Dane incinerated her on the spot. "A mercy, in many ways." He said with an evil leer."

A voice from below sounded. "What _is_ beyond, then?" It was young Bobby Pendragon. Saint Dane had expected the worm to not have the will to live, given _his_ failure.

"Why Pendragon! I almost forgot about you. I suppose you have earned the answer to your question. What is beyond Halla? Everything. There is _power_ beyond Halla, power I am now free to take for myself. But before I leave, I give you one last piece of information to torment you: Halla has always been worthless. The battle you gave your life for has always been a waste of time. Now, goodbye Pendragon." The demon turned around, oblivious to the fact that his nemesis had risen to his feet. He looked into the flume. _Finally,_ he thought to himself, _I'm going home. _"Gielinor!" He shouted. But as the flume took him away, the voice of his foe called after him. "It is _not_ over!" And Bobby Pendragon jumped into the flume after the demon.

A/N: So there you have it: Bobby is on Runescape. I will be writing chapter one right now, and possibly chapter two. Expect to see them soon.


	2. Chapter One: A New Hope

Chapter One: A New Hope

Bobby flew through the flume. For the first time in his life, he traveled with Saint Dane. He tried to throw a punch at the demon, but it went right through him.

"You can't fight in the flumes. They are safe. The one place of safety in the Nether."

"What is the Nether?" Bobby asked wearily. He was tired of being eternally behind.

"The Nether is the name for everything: Halla, Gielinor, and, well, you haven't earned knowledge of _that_ secret."

"So wait, this... Gielinor is not part of Halla?" Bobby inquired? But the demon was gone. Bobby flew alone through the flume. Doing what he did best, Bobby made the most of things: He kicked back and waited for the ride to end.

strangely, this journey through the flume took longer than any trip Bobby had ever taken. The point was reached when Bobby knew not if minutes or years had passed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Bobby felt the pull of gravity once more. His mind quickly went to the challenge at hand. The immediate challenge, as he knew, would be handling the yellow-eyed monsters of Saint Dane: The quigs. Upon touching down, registered three things: A terrified man in brown armor, a confident man in shining white armor, and the dragon, specifically its yellow eyes, that he was fighting.

Bobby hardly blinked when fire spewed from the dragon's maw, cooking the cowering man in his armor. The man in white unleashed an agonized cry and began to fight the dragon with a frenzied fervor. "What can I do to help?" Bobby asked, terrified himself, but determined to avenge the dead man. It was all too likely that these people were ignorant of the danger of the flume, and he felt personally responsible as a result.

The man in white jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. "Whoever you are, I need your help. I have a plan to defeat this dragon, but I cannot do it alone. You will need to be my squire for a time."

As he spoke, a ugly, short, green _thing_ crawled into the cave from a nearby hole. He began looking through a backpack on the side of the room. "Ooh, _shiny!_" the creature said in a rough, guttural voice.

The knight, preoccupied with the greater danger, the dragon, said without turning around, "I can't leave this fight. Take my squire's armor and kill that pesky goblin."

Bobby was nervous, uncertain of the rules of this territory. But fighting was a ruled that applied everywhere, and he knew he could do it. He picked up the simple bronze armor and donned it, and although he was unused to fighting with a sword, he made quick work of the goblin.

The knight called back over to Bobby. "Search my backpack and take out the meat. It's drugged, and I intend to feed it to the dragon."

Bobby did as he was told, but he still asked, "How do you intend to feed the dragon the meat without feeding it your head as well?"

"Climb through the hall in that wall; I'll distract the dragon. Place the food in the bowl further in the cave."

Bobby climbed through, not taking his eyes off of the dragon for a moment. He quickly found the bowl and placed the food. Upon his return, the knight forced the dragon away, and it went off to eat the meat. Not long after, the drugged meat took its effect, and the dragon fell asleep. Taking out more equipment from his backpack, the knight led Bobby to the sleeping dragon. With Bobby keeping at a safe distance from the beast, the knight dipped some cloth in oil and wrapped it around two wooden pillars along with a long fuse. He turned around. "We're going to crush the dragon under the roof of the cave. It won't cause the whole cavern to collapse, just this one section. But I need you to light one pillar at the same time as me."

"I ain't going one step closer to that beast!" Bobby whispered back, too scared of waking the dragon.

"Don't worry," the knight said disappointedly, "The drug won't wear off for hours, and the beast doesn't have that much time."

Bobby crept closer to the pillar, and lit it at the same time that the knight lit the other one. As the pair of the high-tailed it back toward the entrance to the cave and the gate of the flume, there was a loud explosion. When the pair finally dared to return, the dragon was dead. Unfortunately, they soon discovered that most of the cave collapsed. The knight however, having expected this, pulled out two simple pickaxes, and worked with Bobby to clear out the rubble and find a path to the surface.

Finally on the surface, the knight turned to Bobby and said, "I don't suppose you're Pendragon?" He said it with a kind of breathless hope, as if he didn't dare believe that he might receive a "yes" as a reply. Upon hearing Bobby's confirmation, his face was at first a landscape of joy, but he was soon back to being all business. "I guess we have a lot to talk about, Bobby. Fact is, you shouldn't be here. And if you are, then we are all in danger."

_Far away, near the town once called Paddewwa and now called Edgeville, a large raven flew into a dark temple. Several men garbed in blood-red robes guarded the temple as had been their sacred duty for thousands of years. When the raven flew in, they could hardly dare hope as to what it might mean. The raven landed next to the altar and transformed into a man, a terrifying man in opulent red robes and carrying a tall staff with a two-pronged symbol at the top. "Somebody has been drinking my wine," he said to the crowd. As one, the monks fell to their knees before him._

A/N: So ends Chapter 1. I may crank out Ch. 2 for you guys soon, whomever "you" may be, and that'll be all for a time. Reviews are welcome, but I won't hold updates hostage waiting for them.


	3. Chapter Two: Assessing the Situation

Chapter Two: Assessing the Situation

The knight walked off, gesturing Bobby to follow him. As they walked, Bobby decided to grill the man who could hardly fail to be the Traveler from Gielinor

"So what's your name," Bobby asked the knight, "And what were you doing in that cave?"

"I go by a number of names. I am a legendary warrior, known to many as The Blackest Light. The Fremennik barbarians of the north call me Dendur and some call me their king. However, my true name, a secret I do not give lightly, is Lisayer. As for why I was in that cave, the White Knights, one of many knight orders I am affiliated with, requested that I go there to slay a dragon. I knew that it could mean but one thing: A Traveler is coming."

"Who was down there with you?" As Lisayer's thoughts turned to the topic of his now-dead squire, the energy left his eyes. He spoke in a low monotone, refusing to show his true emotions.

"His name was... Veota. He was my friend since birth and he was my... my acolyte. He had no desire to join the White Knights, or to be involved in the travelers, or to be a fighter in any way whatsoever. He only acted as my squire because it was White Knight policy that all members have a squire. He was a poet, a brilliant writer. He should never have died. He..." His voice trailed off, and Bobby knew better than to press him for details. Instead, a change in the topic.

"We are in the swamp village of Lumbridge in the kingdom of Misthalin," Lisayer said in response to Bobby's question. "I'm taking you a place out of sight where we can teleport to my home and talk freely."

Bobby thought he misheard him. "Now, when you say 'teleport', you mean...?"

Lisayer did not answer. Instead, he pulled Bobby inside an alley and handed him a tablet, instructing him to break it. Before Bobby could ask why, he was gone. Bobby stared at the tablet. It looked simple, made out of clay, but he could _feel_ the power inside. Choosing to trust his new friend, he slammed it against the ground. A blue vortex formed, and Bobby was sucked inside. When he opened his eyes, he was standing next to Lisayer again, next to an enormous castle.

"Welcome to my humble home," Lisayer said with a smile. The castle was massive, made of dark stones. It had three floors, and there was an entrance to what looked like a dungeon nearby. Bobby followed Lisayer through a parlor with a gilded rug and a marble fireplace and into a dining room with an opulent mahogany and marble table. Lisayer pulled on a gilded bell-pull and a demonic butler appeared. Removing his white armor, Lisayer told the butler, "Take these to the bank for me, please. And make some dinner for me and my friend." The butler disappeared. A short while later, there was food on the table. At a gesture from Lisayer, Bobby sat down.

"So," Bobby began, "Care to tell me what the deal is with Gielinor?"

"If you have a few hours, I'd love to," came the reply. "Save your questions until the end. I imagine you'll have a lot. Gielinor is different than Halla for a number of reasons. The main feature of Gielinor is its energy. The energy is an intrinsic feature of the world left over from its creation. The energy grants the powers of the gods. The gods of Gielinor are the ones who created it and those who first inhabited it. They have various powers and abilities. The energy allows some of their most minor powers to be used by the normal people through the use of various runes.

This next bit is known only by me and the gods. It took years to uncover this. The flumes are the gateways between Gielinor and Halla. However, the gate is only open when the souls of the seven worlds of Halla are united. In other words, when _all_ of Halla is a place of order, peace, and justice, as it used to be before Saint Dane, the gate is open, but also, when Halla is united as a place of evil and chaos, the gate is open as well. However, the gate toward Gielinor is only open to people of the same alignment as Halla. So, when Halla is good, for want of a better word, good people can cross, and when it is evil, only evil people can cross.

Thousands of years ago, Saint Dane, although he did not use that name, left Gielinor and discovered Halla. At least, that is what your Uncle Press told me. He turned a world, Denduron, toward chaos. When he tried to return, the gate was closed to everyone due to the imbalance of Halla. He later turned Denduron back to its original path in an attempt to undo what he had done. But upon his success, he was not able to return. Although he did not know it, it was because he was evil, and Halla was good. By means I do not know of, he learned what he needed to do to return to Gielinor. And so, he toppled Halla. He finally returned, and when you jumped after him, as you must have done, you came along. If you had tried to come to Gielinor, if you attempted to activate the flume yourself, it would've been unresponsive."

At this, Bobby had to interject. "Does this mean that none of the other Travelers are going to be able to help us here?"

The answer was not what Bobby was hoping. "Worse than that. They won't even know you are here, because the rings will no longer work for you, and although you can _leave_, you won't be able to come back."

"So, if Gielinor is not the same as Halla, does it have a turning point?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. However, I'm inclined to believe that since it has a Traveler, it must have a turning point. As to what that might be, I have a few ideas. I'll let you decide which you think it is, given that you have the most experience at this. I thought at first that the turning point had to do with the Fremennik. They were attacked by brutal creatures called the Dagannoth, but with my efforts, they were quickly repulsed. And since that situation was resolved before your arrival, I doubt that that could've been it.

The dwarves are currently facing a social upheaval. The dwarves are ruled by a consortium of companies. It is an entirely economically run nation. One company, the Red Axe, has seceded from the Consortium and is doing its best to take over the entire nation. They have also resorted to using dark and evil magics to accomplish their will. If the Red Axe takes over, the ramifications for the world could be enormous as much of Gielinor depends on the services of the Consortium. Keldagrim's downfall could result in an insurmountable economic crisis for Gielinor.

The elves are re-emerging from solitude in the forests of Isafdar. They are led by an evil warlord whose aims are currently unknown. The elves fooled me into killing the benevolent King Tyras, the only force truly resisting the warlord. The elf capital city, Prifddinas, has been sealed, and nobody knows what has happened to it. The terrifying aspect of this story is that it has been revealed that the warlord is in alliance with the king of Kandarin, the greatest and most powerful of the human kingdoms. That King Lathas could make an alliance with a beast like Warlord Iorwerth can only bode ill for the world.

But I have a different idea of what the turning point is. I previously mentioned the gods of Gielinor. Gielinor was created and people by Guthix, god of balance. He created the gods Saradomin, Zamorak, Bandos, and Armadyl, among others. The other god of the same age as Guthix was Zaros, god of evil. However, he has been banished by Zamorak. However, Zamorak is hardly a "good guy". He is the god of chaos, created to balance out Saradomin, god of order. Bandos is the god of war, who chose the goblins to be his soldiers. He was defeated by me and a rebellious group of goblins. Armadyl is the god of law. Little is known about him. The children of the gods, the lesser gods, are of little power or consequence.

Zaros brought monstrous creatures called the Mahjarrat to Gielinor from lands unknow. Possibly from Halla. When Zaros was banished, the majority of them defected to Zamorak. Zaros is now a non-entity, and Zamorak is the true threat. The Mahjarrat are growing in power; one even attacked Varrock, capital of Misthalin. With the help of some friends, I defeated him. The Mahjarrat live forever and perform a ritual every thousand years that boosts their power, but it involves sacrificing one of their own. I don't know how many are left of the original seventeen. But my investigations have shown that the ritual is _fast _approaching. Should they complete this ritual, Zamorak will have the power to take over the world. Defias Lancaster, Lord High Priest of Saradomin, is organizing his efforts to combat the evil. You see, it is common knowledge that Saradomin is stronger than Zamorak..." (Bobby noticed that Lisayer was fingering a four-pointed star on a chain around his neck as he said that, and that the symbol was ever-prescient in the castle.) "...but with the aid of his Mahjarrat, he could be unstoppable.

It is common knowledge that Saint Dane has been bringing chaos to Halla. I believe he first brought chaos to Denduron because it would amuse him. That, among other things, constitutes conclusive proof of a terrible fact: Saint Dane is none other than Zamorak."


	4. Chapter Three: Evaluations

Chapter Three: Evaluations

"So that's it, then? Saint Dane is a god?" Bobby was stunned. He let the odd development wash over him, knowing as he did so that it must be true. "Then what is his goal?"

Lisayer sat deep in thought, for a time. Finally, he brushed his long dark hair out in front of his emerald-colored eyes and said, "He is the god of chaos, and it is my belief that eternal chaos IS his goal. I think he intends to overthrow Saradomin and rule Gielinor. He wants chaos for chaos' sake."

"That's what I thought. Disastrous as it'd be if that ritual came to pass, we don't _really_ know how imminent it is, and we don't _know _that it is the turning point. Look at it this way: The dwarves, from the Red Axe, you said they are using dark magics. Could they not be using Zamorak's powers to aid their cause? What about the elves. Warmongering, death, conquering the world, those things certainly aid Saint Dane's cause. That would certainly spread chaos. We can't afford to discount either of those possibilities, or, in truth, anything that brings chaos."

Lisayer looked Bobby in the eye. Bobby noticed that Lisayer's green eyes had a sort of sunken, almost haunted look. These are eyes that have seen horrors. These are eyes of a man that will stop at nothing to right the wrongs. These are the eyes of determination. Bobby knew at once that Lisayer could be trusted. Lisayer took a breath, and said, "These throw off my plans. In any case, though, you need proper training. Come with me."

Bobby follow Lisayer through his house to what he called the games room. "First, a boxing match. Follow me into the ring, Bobby." The two of them put on gloves and stood at the ready, neither willing to throw the first punch. Inevitably, Lisayer attacked. He seemed satisfied that with the fact that Bobby knew not to start the bout himself. The combinations of hooks and jabs were almost too much for Bobby, but he was well trained. He read Lisayer's moves perfectly, and ended the fight with a sharp uppercut. "Not bad, not bad," Lisayer said with a small grin. "Of course, I could've easily overwhelmed you, but your moves should be sufficient to handle the typical opponent." _Yeah right, _thought Bobby, _I'm a better fighter than you any day._ His doubt was displayed on his face, apparently, for Lisayer said, "I am still evaluating you; you have much left to do. It's odds on that you'll never get into a fight on Gielinor with just your fists. Fights here tend to take place with swords, bows, or with magic. I imagine you know little to nothing of how to use the latter two, but I will need to see what you can do with a sword."

Lisayer hopped out of the boxing ring and into a new ring, a deadlier looking ring. He donned some simple armor and handed the same to Bobby, as well as a simple bronze sword. "Have at you!" he commanded. He leapt forward, slicing immediately at Bobby's head. "Wait, wait!" Bobby shouted. "Are you trying to kill me? We'll slice each other to ribbons in here."

"It is the magic of the ring. Whoever dies, loses, and is released unharmed outside of the ring. Now, have at you!" He charged again, and Bobby could easily see that he was outmatched. Lisayer flowed from pose to pose effortlessly, unleashing complicated moves that Bobby could never dream of. And yet, despite his obvious ability to win the fight, he did not kill Bobby. It became clear to Bobby that he was truly being evaluated. As such, he too used the most complicated combinations he could come up with. But he could not come within a foot of Lisayer; the knight was too skilled. Inevitably, Lisayer got bored of the duel, and quickly removed Bobby's sword arm. When Bobby picked up the blade with his left hand and continued the fight, Lisayer was satisfied. He then cut off Bobby's head and ended the bout. "You have passed," he announced to the now unharmed Bobby standing outside of the ring. "You have passed, but your skills need to be improved. There are many kinds of weapons and armor in Gielinor. I'd wager you could effectively use weapons and armor made of mithril, maybe even adamantite. But to truly have a purpose in Gielinor, you must be able to use the best. You must be able to use the dragon weapons. Nothing less will suffice. Better weapons exist, but we do not have the time to train you to use them, nor do I intend to buy the weapons for you. While I can afford it, it would be a waste of money.

In addition to melee, you must learn how to use the other two types of combat. All adventurers of Gielinor are well-versed in each, but you can choose to specialize in one if you wish. I will call in a few friends of mind, who will each teach you about melee, ranged battle, and magic."

Bobby was not particularly happy about being told that he was basically an ignorant loser with no purpose, but he sucked it up. "Which area do you specialize in?" he asked Lisayer, eager to learn more about his new ally.

"I specialize in all of them. Now, let me contact my allies."

"How do you intend to do that?" Bobby still felt ignorant, and the introduction of three people more knowledgable than him did not excite him.

"As I told you, there is an energy about Gielinor. The longer you stay here, the more it changes you. This effect will increase with your use of magic. One of the effects of the energy is the ability to telepathically speak with those closest to you. With a strong enough bond, you can speak to multiple people at once. I can contact my three allies in this way, and they will all hear me."  
>"Oh, ok then," said Bobby. He did not truly understand, a fact not lost on Lisayer. Not two minutes later, three figures appeared at the house.<p>

The first to arrive was a slim, agile youth with short, fiery red hair. He wore a studded, black leather outfit, though what creature it came from, Bobby would not like to know. He moved with a simple grace, wasting no motion whatsoever in his steps. As if to show off, he tied a short rope to an arrow and shot it at the house, expertly grabbing the rope at the last second and letting it pull him to the house. Before he did anything else in the house, he walked to the chapel inside and bowed before the altar. He then sprinted back and stood before Lisayer.

The second seemed to be the polar opposite of the archer. He was a short, broad-chested man clad in red armor that completely disguised his features. He wielded a sword that seemed to embody lightning, with a hilt shaped in the same star shape as the symbol hanging around Lisayer's neck. He walked into the house with the air of unwavering confidence, as if he had nothing to fear from anything.

The third arrived on the property in an odd stream of purple cubes that appeared in a formation to cover her body and disappeared when she arrived. She had long, shoulder-length purple hair and eyes that looked almost black. She wore robes that rendered her almost invisible, as if she were as ethereal as a ghost. In her hands, she carried a tall staff topped with a purple symbol of a circle and a simple cross inside, dividing the circle into four sections. The other two visitors eyed her with distaste, but Lisayer greeted her, and the others, like a long-lost family member.

"Bobby," he said, "Meet the Avengers."

A/N: Just a brief point. Lisayer is meant to be the stereotypical player in runescape; an adventurer. The other three are members of his "clan" so to speak. While they are all modeled after my character and three of my friends, none of the names are authentic in any way.

Also, when Lisayer said that Bobby could use mithril weaponry and armor, that was my way of saying that Bobby's attack, strength, and defense levels are in the high 30s.


	5. Chapter Four: Planning

Chapter Four: Planning

The witch-girl was the first to speak. "I still don't approve of 'The Avengers'. It's so clichéd. I still prefer 'Blood of the Dark'."

The ranger chose this moment to interject. Glaring daggers at the girl, he said in a seething whisper, "Unlike you, we serve a purpose, not our own evil aims. Who invited you, anyway?"

"I did," Lisayer said sharply. "She is my friend. I may not agree with her... loyalties, but I trust her." Turning to Bobby, he said, "Pendragon, meet Ilana Violet...," he gestured at the mage, "...Jekeel Sparrow..." the ranger, "...and Animous Lyte," the warrior. "Friends, this is Bobby Pendragon."

" 'Bobby Pendragon'? What kind of name is that?" Ilana said with a sneer. "You're not from around here, are you? Where _are_ you from? I've been all over Gielinor, and nobody has a name like that?"

Bobby was not expecting sudden questions about his origins. "Um, I, uh," he stammered out, "I'm from the, ah, Yankees tribe in the Bronx forest?" What the heck, he figured, it worked before.

Ilana looked to Jekeel who looked to Animous who looked to Lisayer. None of the three seemed to believe Bobby. They rounded on him, and broke out laughing.

"She's just playing a joke on you," Jekeel said with distaste, though he still was chuckling, "We know all about Halla."

"What!" Bobby was stunned. That's against the rules. Only the Traveler from the territory and his or her acolyte knew about the mission. He pointed this all out to Lisayer.

"You are right, but I do not see myself as having broken any rules. We are four parts of the same being. Together, _we_ are the Traveler for Gielinor. Technically, I am the one with the ring, but I always work with them. We work together, Pendragon." Bobby understood.

"Now, you mentioned that this would change your plans...?"

The Lisayer that Bobby first met was back: all business. "I was hoping to immediately tackle Zamorak wherever possible and oppose the Mahjarrat as fast as possible..."

"What's wrong with that?" Animous broke in, sounding his deep voice for the first time. "The Lord of Chaos is the only thing that matters, and the Mahjarrat are his greatest threat! You mentioned new developments, but what could change the fact that we _need_ to go on the offensive. Defense is immaterial. We should go to the north and fight the site of that ritual and come out swinging. We're the greatest fighting group in Gielinor. We can take 'em."

Jekeel nodded at those words, but Ilana looked at him disparagingly. "And that," she said, "Is why Lisayer and I do the planning, and you two do the work. Zamorak is a traitorous scum, but he is cunning. Just because we think that his plans center on the Mahjarrat does _not_ make that a fact. Even _I_ am wrong sometimes. Now, as it happens, I do not think I am. But if Lisayer says he has information, then let us hear that, and not you!"

Lisayer smiled apologetically at his somewhat abashed friends and said, "Um, thank you, Ilana. As I was saying. I was hoping to go straight to the Mahjarrat and take them down. But insight on the part of Pendragon has forced me to change the plan. You are both aware of the situation with the dwarves and the elves. Imagine, Animous, what would happen if the dwarves fell to the Red Axe? They would refuse trade to the rest of the world. The nations of the land would have no access to resources or weapons or armor. Now consider the elves. If they continue their war, the humans will have no choice but to fight back. Combine the two stresses of the war and the economic failure, and the kingdom of humans would fall, devastating the balance of the world. And when one great nation collapses, the rest will follow in turn.

Now, consider this. The elves embody chaos and death. They can hardly fail to be supporters of Zamorak, or at least accepting his aid. And the dwarves? It is _known_ that they use Zamorakian magic. No, it is clear that Zamorak intends to weaken the land before he intends to conquer it with his Mahjarrat. This is an eventuality that we _must _prevent.

And so, here is what must be done:

Pendragon needs to be trained. He is moderately adept at the sword, but I will need you, Animous, to refine his abilities and teach him to create armor. He must also learn to fight with a bow and arrow, Jekeel, and how to survive in the wilderness. Lastly, he must learn magic from the best. Ilana, you must teach him what you can, as well as the nature of prayer and of runes. You will each spend time training him.

Pendragon must also become as well acquainted with Gielinor a possible. You will each take him on individual quests and battles. Show him what the world is like. I will continue to study our foes in this time.

Then shall be our time to advance. I will request an audience with Lord High Priest Lancaster. He will direct us in how to advance on the dwarves and the elves. After that, we target the Mahjarrat. Do you understand?"

The three Avengers nodded. Bobby was simply stunned. These were three individuals with completely conflicting personalities, destined to be constantly fighting each other. And it was clear that they all disagreed with many points of Lisayer's plan; Ilana disliked the focus on melee and ranged combat, Animous disliked the delay in action, and Jekeel disliked letting Ilana teach Bobby about prayer. But Lisayer stepped flawlessly into the position of leader, and his friends trusted him without hesitation. Bobby wondered just _what_ he could have done to earn their loyalty.

It was late at night, and the friends sat around the dinner table with Bobby, each swapping stories. Bobby took the advantage to learn as much about the history of each of the Avengers as possible...

A/N: Blech, this chapter was horrible. I'm probably going to edit it soon. But that is enough writing for today. Throughout the week, I will likely get less updates in, but I will do what I can. These next four chapters will be backstory posts about The Avengers, and as they were not part of the original outline, they will take longer to write. Of course, it's possible that nobody is reading this anyway...


	6. Chapter 5A: Jekeel Sparrow

A/N: Chapter Five is a four-part chapter giving a bit of backstory on the three "supporting characters", as I call them, from The Avengers, and how the whole team joined together. They each take place roughly ten years before the events of the story, except for the last, which is a few years after that.

Chapter 5A: Jekeel Sparrow

"Stay in _line_, Jekeel! You cannot afford to act with anything save the utmost decorum at any time! You have your father's political career to think about, after all."

"Yes mother, I know," the boy replied sullenly. It was sure to be a miserable evening, watching his dad talk with various political allies and opponents for hours on end, but saying nothing of substance. He and his six other identical brothers would be required to sit stilly and silently, of course. At least his mother got his name right. This time...

The banquet was everything Jekeel had expected. A night, as he called it, of bad food and worse company. And music. It would've been _almost_ bearable if he could talk to his brothers, but "they had their father's political career to think about, after all. One misplaced word or action and the entire family reputation could be forever slandered." As Jekeel was constantly reminded.

But his brothers didn't seem to mind so much. His older siblings each would inherit a place in the nobility, and so would he, but as the youngest, he would receive next to nothing. But his brothers knew that, for their own sakes, they had to sit there and be the perfect children and sit there silently. But so it was in Ardougne. Sit still and do as you're told, and you'll be rewarded eventually.

It made Jekeel sick.

One day, Jekeel snuck out of his family's estate and made his way over to the pillory. There was a man trapped inside one of the cages. Jekeel found himself not pitying the man but _envying_ him. Inevitably, he would be free from that cage, and then that man would be freer than Jekeel ever could be. At that moment, he could hear the alarms at his estate and he knew that the guards had discovered he was missing. Jekeel made his choice: He freed the prisoner.

Together, the pair of them escaped to the north and made a simple camp. "I'm Jekeel," he said with a smile. "What's your name?"

"Name's Imperous. Jack Imperous. Why did you free me?"

"I live a completely sheltered life. I am the son of a noble, destined to a future of the lowest nobility. You, you are free. I had to taste your freedom."

"Ha! Hahaha." Imperous found Jekeel hilarious. "You fool! What I wouldn't give to be among the ranks of the nobility, even the lowest form. But you freed me, and I owed you a debt. You'll soon find that there is more honor among thieves than among nobles. Make whatever request of me you wish, and I'll do what I can to grant it."

"Teach me!" Jekeel commanded, his eyes lighting up. "Teach me what you can about the _real_ world, and above all, let me be as free as you."

And so it was. Jekeel Sparrow lived with Jack Imperous in the wild. Jekeel learned from the master how to fish, cook, chop trees, and light fires. He also learned mastery of the bow and arrow. In two years' time, Jekeel had changed from a young, ignorant, sheltered son of a noble to a cunning master of the land. So, after those two years had passed, Jack took Jekeel into Ardougne to look at it from a peasant's point of view.

The world looked so different outside of the walls of the estate. Most striking was the difference between East and West Ardougne. He saw for the first time the merchants' stalls that lined the streets of Ardougne. And yet he also now saw those too poor to buy from them. He saw for the first time the nobles and guards outside of political banquets, doing their daily business. He saw also how they ignored the starving as they walked by, refusing to give even a single coin to those in need. He saw for the first time the magnificent zoos and gardens that sucked in the people's tax money for many a year. And he saw as well the derelict homes and sick people who had true need of it.

He saw the chaos ensuing inside West Ardougne as the people tried to rise up, again and again, and were systematically shot down, again and again. _Without happiness, _he concluded,_ there can be no order, and without order, there can be no happiness._ Therein lay the beginnings of his Saradominist faith.

He saw with a start his six brothers. He was unrecognizable, due to his past two years living away from the hell he had fled. Jack may wish to be a noble, but he had failed to prove Jekeel wrong. Better to be starving and free than to be a fat slave. He left Ardougne a changed man.

"The worst part is," he said, "that there is nothing that we can really do!"

"Yes there is," came Jack's somber reply. "We can provide hope. We may have to... act outside the law, but we can provide hope."

"It was the law that created this nightmare," said Jekeel bitterly. The pair of them waited outside the gates of Ardougne. At the sign of the first vulnerable noble, they struck. They robbed the man of every coin he had on him, knowing as he did so that his bank was stuffed anyway. They then brought the money to West Ardougne. That was the plan: Liberate and appropriate.

Time went by, and the pair of archers and thieves found themselves with a large following. They moved from robbing small-time nobles to entire banks. There names were feared and worshiped. Outlawed and revered. Cursed and idolized. But soon they were betrayed. One man told the Ardougne guards where their camp lay in exchange for the bounty. The group was attacked in the middle of the night.

But the soldiers of Ardougne, so rarely called into battle. They were no match for the wily bandits, save that they attacked in such numbers as valor cannot withstand. Near the end, Jack and Jekeel were among few survivors. "Run into the woods," Jack commanded. "Hide yourself!"

Jekeel knew that if he was to continue to fight, he had to survive. He fled, but not until he saw an arrow pierce Jack's heart. The savage cry of grief that escaped him alerted the guards to his presence, but they were preoccupied with the other bandits. One guard came to see him.

"You are under arrest," he said in an authoritative tone. Yet you can see in his eyes that he took no pleasure from the act. It was clear that he sympathized with the bandits, he respected them and, perhaps, supported them. But he had no choice. "Drop your weapons, our perish where you- wait a second! I _know_ you! You, you are Jekeel Sparrow!" Stunned, Jekeel could only nod dumbly. "I was a guard working for your family. You cannot know how I pitied you, trapped as you were. I'm glad you were able to take your freedom. And I refuse to take it back. Go, leave this place. I'll tell the other guards I killed you." At that, he began to walk away. But before he could leave, Jekeel called back to him. "What is your name, Guardsman?" he asked, desperate to know his savior.

"Lisayer."


	7. Chapter 5B: Animous Lyte

Chapter 5B: Animous Lyte

"Don't ask Nate for anything. he's stingy!"

Animous sighed. He felt no real anger at Nate, the passerby, but the culmination of all the frustrations of his life and the simple refusal of the majority of Varrock citizens to give a single coin always ended in a rage that escaped him regularly in short tense bursts.

That was the day to day situation for Animous and those like him. He spent his days begging either for coins or for work. Neither were ever granted to him. At night, he slept in the sewers and prayed to not be found by the Varrock guards, the rats, or the demons that supposedly lived further inside the ruins.

His family was whoever stayed with him for more than a few hours. His parents were killed long ago, not long after he was born. They were slayed by Zamorakian monks that they chanced upon during a hike in the woods. He was picked up by a priest of Saradomin who taught him his faith. When the church in which he lived was foreclosed on, the priest died defending it until the end. And since then, Animous walked the streets of Varrock.

This day in question was the turning point in his life. He walked out of the alley from which he begged the passersby for spare change. He saw a young man walking down the street. He took one bite of an apple and decided that he didn't like it. He made to throw it out. Animous begged him for the apple. Animous, homeless as he was, was a prideful man, and it took extremely extenuating circumstances to cause him to unbend that pride and beg. The man considered for a moment, then cocked his arm and threw the apple over the wall of Varrock and into the wood. Animous ran after it, hearing the man laughing behind him. He couldn't find the apple.

That event broke him. He did not blame society for his situation because he knew that order was necessary for civilization, and some people caught the short end of the stick. But he _did_ blame those unwilling to give any aid to those people, who even did their best to make lives harder for the poor, the sick, the hungry. So Animous felt perfectly justified robbing the rich people to take what he could for himself.

He snuck into a nearby smithy and took a small bronze axe off of a rack. It was weak, but it would do the job. He broke into one of the larger houses in the city. Large enough to have wealth, but small and unimportant enough that it would not cause a large upheaval in the city if something were to happen to it.

Animous crept up to the top floor and found his way into the master bedroom. A lone, elderly woman lay alone in bed. Animous put his axe to her throat. But he could not finish the motion. He ran out of the house, knowing that he was weak. That he could not do what had to be done. That he was a monster for even considering what he had almost done. He ran outside and swung the axe at a nearby tree. He felled it with one blow.

"That was _incredible!_" The sudden voice scared Animous. He thought he had been careful enough to not be watched. "Your strength must be the stuff of legends!"

The culprit, Animous discovered, was a tall, broad-shouldered man with scars covering his face. "Who are you?" Animous asked suspiciously.

"My name is Vannaka. Are you a fellow warrior?"

"I am nothing." Animous, distraught as he was, told the stranger his story, a display of emotion that he would never if shown under normal circumstances.

"You are wrong," Vannaka said. "You are not weak; you are strong, in more ways that one. You will come with me, and I will teach you the way of the blade. With proper training, you can be a mighty warrior, greater than even me." 

Vannaka walked away. He had the air of a man who was used to having his orders followed. And as he expected, Animous followed. They went not to a training ground, as Animous expected, to a simple mine. "You have neither weapons nor armor. I can give those to you, but for them to be at all effective, _you_ must make them."

And so it was that Vannaka taught Animous how to mine ore, refine it into bars, and smith it into powerful armaments. But when Animous finished one set of armor, Vannaka promptly destroyed it, and set Animous to work making better, stronger armor. Much time passed, but Animous soon could make equipment out of the strongest runite ore.

"Now, you can learn to fight," Vannaka said with a smile. He led Animous to the duel arena, much to his apprentices displeasure.

"What use would dueling me be? You would easily overpower me, and it is common knowledge that if you lose a duel, you feel both the pain of injury and the agony of dying before the enchantments around the stadium protect you. Would it not make more sense to have me train a little first before we fight?"

"What training is better than actual fighting? Nothing save the actual heat of battle can prepare you for the heat of battle. I may sometimes waste my time, but I will not waste yours. We fight."

The duels were, as Animous predicted, short and painful. But slowly and surely, he began to fight back. The duels lasted longer. He progressed to stronger and stronger weaponry. He was not the only one feeling pain as he landed blows on Vannaka. As Vannaka knew was inevitable, his apprentice's strength overpowered him, and Animous won a bout.

"There is nothing more that I can teach you now. Go forth, adventurer, and seek your fortune."

Animous set out into the world. He challenged the most renowned duelists, he tackled the most difficult quests, and he slayed the most vicious monsters. His reputation grew, as did the size of his bank account. The tramp from Varrock had been transformed into a wealthy and powerful adventurer.

And it came to pass that Animous found himself in Varrock. He had an audience with a priest of Saradomin, one Defias Lancaster, who had an assignment for him, and he could not tarry. As he walked by a dark alley that was vaguely familiar. Sitting inside it was a ragged man, whose eyes portrayed the harsh life he had led.

"Spare some change, guvna?" The man asked hopefully.

"No," replied Animous, "If you want money, you had best work for it."

And he heard from behind him as a jolt to the past, "Don't ask Animous for anything. He's stingy!"

He walked by, trying to pretend that he was not troubled by the recent events. Another voice sounded.

"Shame on you, Animous! Shame that you should turn your back on one who needed you. Shame that you forget those few who once showed _you_ kindness! Shame that you forget who you were. Shame that you forget how you were once that man, without a single coin to your name, with no work available. The lowest circles of hell are reserved for those like you, those who betray themselves."

Animous fell to his knees before the stranger, a priest of Saradomin. This man, who may have been Saradomin himself, had spoken the words that Animous had refused to say to yourself.

"I am in your debt, kind sir. You have recalled me to my duty in this world. For too long I have lived my life for pleasure, forgetting what I once was and what I swore to do. I am in your debt. What is your name, that I may repay you when you have need."

"Lisayer."


	8. Chapter 5C: Ilana Violet

Chapter 5C: Ilana Violet

"No, no, no! _Use_ your rage, don't hold it back. You'll never be able to use the most powerful of the ancient spells if you continue on this path!"

"Yes, Sister. I understand," Ilana lied through her teeth. Faithful as she was to Zaros, god of evil, she was not as inherently evil as him—or her sister. And her sister could tell.

"From the beginning, then. Grasp the blood runes, feel their power, and summon a blood blitz!" Ilana loved her sister, but it was a perverted, twisted love, the love that a dog who is regularly beaten still shows for its master. Ilana was _fiercely_ loyal to the only family that she had. As such, she could not bring her to summon the full power of her capabilities to attack her, even if she commanded so. A simple burst was all that she could provoke.

Estalri was furious. Raising her staff with arms outstretched, she brought forth her full power, freezing every living being on the island. In time, she let the rest the island thaw, but she kept her sister frozen.

"Ilana, _this_ is what you can be capable of, but only if you truly harness yourself. I can sense it in you; the power you have can shatter the limits of the Old Magic, but you _must_ use your fury! Now try again."

Several hours later, the sisters went off to bed, both bitterly disappointed.

The next morning, Estalri tried a different tact. "Maybe, Sister, if you knew _why_ we must fight, you will be able to commit yourself wholeheartedly to the battle, and to your training. In the beginning, the Nether consisted of nothing but the Azeir, the domain of the gods. The Azeir was the first, and it was originally uninhabited. The Azeir is permanent, but the rest of the Nether is not, for a simple reason: The Azeir was self-willed, but Gielinor was _created_. The Azeir is almost a conscious being, and it is said that it created Guthix, the first god, with Zaros hard on his heels.

Guthix created Gielinor, an experiment decried by Zaros at the time. The Lesser Nether needed someone to govern it; however, Guthix did not wish to interfere with his creation. As such, he created the lesser gods, specifically designed to balance each other out. Saradomin is order, Zamorak is chaos; Armadyl is justice, Bandos is war. Zamorak is the god of chaos, and so Zaros, god of evil, enlisted his service to further his aims.

He intended to reverse the polarity of the Nether to a place of evil. Changing Gielinor is worthless, save for the fact that it would be necessary to do that to change the Azeir, and that was his ultimate goal; change the Azeir to mirror him, and he could rule the Nether. He promised Zamorak equal partnership.

The bastard betrayed him! Zamorak stole a powerful artifact, the Staff of Armadyl, and impaled Zaros with it. The power of the staff banished Zaros to realms unknown. Since then, the Order of Zaros has been training sorcerers so that one day, that traitorous scum can be cast down. We have a temporary alliance with Saradominists, the other opponents of Zamorak. Or, rather, _we_ have a temporary truce with _them_. They still fight us as an evil that must be cast down. But our enemy is not Saradomin (for now), but _Zamorak_. He is the _ultimate_ enemy. Thousands of lives, your ancestors, were sacrificed in the name of his downfall.

Don't you understand? This is your legacy! The powers of the Zarosians have been growing. Soon, you can avenge the deaths of your ancestors and the loss of your Master! Doesn't that concept fill your heart with passion?"

Once again, Ilana lied. She wanted her sister to be happy, but the way she saw it, the banishment of the Lord of Evil and the Saint of Death could be nothing but good for society at large.

"Now," Estalri commanded, "Show me a blood blitz!"

Ilana sighed. She knew that she had no choice. If she could not produce a blood blitz, she would face terrible punishments, and her sister would most likely abandon her as an apprentice in favor of one capable of using anger. But she also knew that using her anger would change her forever. Still, if it made her sister happy...

She raised her rudimentary staff and spoke the incantation. Halfway through, disaster struck.

An army of red-robed wizards materialized on the island. They raised their staves, each with the two-pronged blood-red symbol of Zamorak on top, and cast the fatal spell, the Flames of Zamorak. Only two of the Zarosian order survived.

But Estalri was mortally wounded, and Ilana knew it. As she watched her sister fall to the ground before her, Ilana felt a new rage fill her soul. A rage of justice, of recompense, of virtue, of necessity. She grasped Estalri's staff, and raised it to the heavens, and released her power. A new spell, stronger than blood, or ice, engulfed the tiny island. The miasmic barrage slaughtered all of the Zamorakians.

Ilana walked amongst the corpses, desiring to be certain that her foes were truly dead. But she found one survivor. He evidently created a magical shield just in time, and had fallen to the ground so as to look dead and hopefully not be discovered the the Zarosians. As he rose to his feet to battle the witch, he stopped.

"You are not evil," he said with surprise.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Ilana said, knowing in her mind how childish and pathetic it sounded. The righteous anger she felt had cooled as the magic was released.

"It's your eyes. All of these dedicated to evil have hard eyes, eyes that portray the depths of their depravities. but yours are different. You may be Zarosian, but you are not evil."

"And you are not Zamorakian," Ilana said with satisfaction, glad she can at least pretend to not be ten steps behind the events. Her mind was still on the moment when her sister fell to her knees.

"You are right," the man said, "I am not Zamorakian. I am a Saradominist, who was ordered by Lord High Priest Defias Lancaster to infiltrate the Zamorakians, join them on this crusade, eliminate the evil on this island, and finish the Zamorakians after they became battle weary."

"And you have the power to do that?" Ilana asked with wonder.

"Yes, or so I thought until I met you. Power just... radiates from you. I'm glad you're not wicked. Otherwise, as per my orders, to kill the evil dwelling on this island, I would need to try to defeat you. That's just plain lucky, as i see it. Thank you for not killing me, by the way."

"I can say the same to you," Ilana said with an almost embarrassed smile. "Thank you, at the very least, for freeing me from that evil order. I support Zaros, there is no question, but I could never be as evil as them. I only acted differently to appease my... my... my sister. I owe you a debt. Please tell me your name." _Please_, she thought.

"Lisayer."


	9. Chapter 5D: The Avengers

A/N: This chapter will involve the characters doing a stylized version of the quest The Chosen Commander, mainly just the final battle. The quest will be _slightly_ different in this story.

Chapter 5D: The Avengers

"Lisayer, Lisayer, come in, Lisayer! Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Lisayer replied to the voice in his head. "I wasn't aware that you used the Lunar Magicks, Lord High Priest."

Defias Lancaster replied uncertainly. "The Lunar Magicks are the preferred tools of Guthix, it is true, but as they are not expressly forbidden, like the Zarosian Magicks, they can be used... when necessary."

"Is there something you wished of me then, Sir?" Lisayer asked, hoping that he can be of use to the Saradominist cause. It had been his dream for as long as he could remember.

"Yes, there most certainly is." (Lisayer's heart leapt.) "As you may or may not be aware, the Chosen Commander prophesied by Bandos, God of War, has risen. However, she has turned on him. The God of War has possessed the goblin high priest to command his troops personally. For obvious reasons, Bandos must not be allowed to succeed. But there is more. Listen carefully: The goblin priest has become an Avatar of Bandos, energized by Bandos' will. If a weapon were to kill that Avatar, it would become similarly enchanted. Since Bandos is more powerful than Zamorak, who is younger than the War God, then a weapon empowered by Bandos may be able to defeat our ancient foe permanently."

The High Priest paused to allow the ramifications of that statement to fully wash over Lisayer before continuing. "You _must_ defeat the Avatar, and then guard the weapon you use with your life. It may be the tool we need."

Lisayer nodded stupidly before realizing that Lancaster could not see him. "Yes, Lord. Only..."

"Yes?"

"If this Bandos is stronger than Zamorak because he is an Elder god, then by the same token, wouldn't he be stronger than Saradomin?"

"...He is."

"Then I do not believe that I can do this alone. May I enlist the aid of three friends and allies? They all fight for the side of good, and I know them all to be trustworthy, though you know them not."

Lord High Priest Defias Lancaster was troubled. He did not want to trust such an important task to people outside of the Order of Saradomin, and especially not to people whom he didn't know. But a soothing voice in his mind instructed him to trust Lisayer, and Lancaster obeyed instantly. That voice was how he knew he was chosen to be Saradomin's Crusader: The God of Order himself spoke to him. One might call the man crazy, and many have. But the voice has always given correct advice and has proven himself to be the God.

"Very well, Lisayer," The priest finally decided, "Gather whatever allies that you need. I trust you to make them fully aware of the gravity of the situation they will be in."

"Thank you, Sir."

The telepathic conversation ceased. Lisayer knew precisely whom he wanted by his side in battle. All were good, pure people, though troubled in many ways. They also were powerful fighters, more powerful in their own ways than Lisayer, though his abilities were superior to theirs in others.

He focused inward. The bonds he had made with these people in a short time were powerful; he had impacted them all, and they had each changed him in their own ways themselves. He did not need to resort to crude magicks to contact them.

The three friends he addressed each knew their duty to this one man, and their arrival was not a long time in coming.

First, a form enveloped in a shower of purple cubes. A woman, with dark robes and a tall staff with a purple symbol on top. Second, a man simply sprouted out of the ground, evidence of the teleport tablet which he used. A broad-chested man clad in the shining blue rune armor.. Finally, a gnome glider flew overhead and landed. A slim form sprinted over in a red leather outfit.

The three each seemed surprised that other people were called into the battle. Lisayer felt introductions were in order.

"Trusted friends and allies," he began, "you have all touched my lives in your own ways, and I hope that I made some impact on your lives." (The three newcomers each gazed reminiscently into the distance, happy to finally be able to fulfill their debts.) "Ilana Violet, Animous Lyte, Jekeel Sparrow," Lisayer continued, indicating each as he spoke their names, "I need your aid in a battle that is beyond the capabilities of any of us." Almost in response to the skeptical looks present on the features of his three friends, Lisayer said dramatically, "We are going to do battle with a God. Bandos has returned to this world, once again with the aims of conquering it. He must be stopped, for two reasons. The first is that rule by goblins, ogres, and the God of War would devastate the order of the world." He said that for the benefit of Animous and Jekeel. He knew that Ilana would not be interested until he added that, "Should we succeed in defeating him, or rather, his Avatar, the weapon that delivers the killing blow will be empowered by him, and may have the strength to destroy another mutual foe of ours: The Lord of Chaos, Zamorak."

Lisayer's three friends snapped a look at him upon hearing that last sentence. Each, for their own reasons, had put themselves on the quest of overthrowing that monster. "Prepare yourselves," he said. "In one hour we shall travel to Dorgesh-Kaan and from there head off into battle." Animous Lyte immediately set to sharpening his sword. Jekeel strung his bow and began fletching more arrows and crossbow bolts. Ilana went over to talk to Lisayer.

"What is our strategy for the battle?" She seemed rather disgusted with the other two fighters who had not even bothered to ask.

"Unfortunately," Lisayer replied, "I don't quite have one. We will be battling the god in his own domain, and I don't know what additional powers he has there. Hell, I don't even know what he can do _out_ of his realm. But I can offer some advice. The first is to expect unbridled ferocity. He is the bloodthirsty God of War, and revels in carnage and battle. The second is to expect powerful magic. The gods have access to the High Magic, spells beyond our capabilities. While they rarely use such abilities, we do not know what to expect. To be sure, he will be a master of the Simple Magics we can use."

Ilana nodded grimly, and she began to meditate. Jekeel, having listened to the conversation, pulled out some odd leathers from his pack and began stitching them together.

"Here Ilana, take this leather armor. It will protect you against magic better than those robes, and they will not restrict your magic at all," Jekeel said with his characteristic grin. 

"I'll be the judge of that," Ilana replied icily. She clearly did not want to accept help from those whom she considered to be lower life forms than her. Still, she donned the armor.

Lisayer watched approvingly. Jekeel did not seem to share the disdain that Ilana felt for him. At least, he didn't until he saw Ilana test some of her spells.

"You use the Zarosian Magicks! You are a being of Evil!"

"Yes, you are right, I'm evil. I'm a witch. Take care I don't spell you." Ilana immensely enjoyed teasing the fool. Anyone could tell she was lying. Anyone with a brain, anyway. Intelligence was such a rare trait these days.

Jekeel made ready to reply, but Lisayer stepped in, testifying to Ilana's trustworthiness. Jekeel was not happy about the situation, but he was loyal enough to Lisayer to allow it. Lisayer was determined to make the team work together and be a cohesive fighting unit. He knew that they just hated each other on principle, because their religions demanded it. There was no _real _ill feeling. Better then, he felt, to let them fight out their differences between each other _now_, rather then on a battlefield. He decided to throw some flames on the fire.

"Jekeel, those bolts have gems for tips, do they not?" Upon receiving a confirmation, Lisayer said, "Why don't you ask Ilana to enchant them for you, then? They would make them far more... destructive."

Wordlessly, Jekeel, took his ammunition to Ilana, who overheard the conversation. She enchanted the weapons, and the exchange almost went without incident until Ilana said, "Don't _worry_! They're not cursed now. Sara-whatever won't send you to hell for using them." She laughed again, and the argument ensued once more, this time with Animous joining in in Jekeel's defense. Lisayer stepped in just before the fight came to blows, and forced the team to reconcile themselves with their differences. _All in all_, Lisayer decided, _I'd call that a success._

The time came, and the members of the fighting group were ready. Lisayer distributed three Moving-Over-Distance Spheres, and took one himself. A blink of the eye later, they found themselves in Dorgesh-Kaan. Lisayer stopped the group and asked them if they all had sufficient food and potions. After updating the quality of Animous' food with food from his own supplies, the group went to find the portal to Bandos' throne room. They stepped through the portal...

…and were face-to-face with the Avatar of Bandos.

"You are all admirable fighters, I have seen it for myself." The voice of the God boomed throughout the room. The sound seemed utterly independent of the Avatar. "My Commander has forsaken me. Come, join me and be my New Commanders. Abandon this losing quest of yours."

In response, Lisayer pulled out his peculiar weapon. At its base, it was a two-handed Dragon sword. However, it had been refined on a whetstone. The resulting flexible sword could be strung like a bow. He made it after a model he had once made before, but it had been stolen. However, he improved upon the concept. At the base of the blade, beneath the hilt and the pommel, was a white glass orb that, similar to many commonly used staves, gave an infinite supply of air runes and boosted the power of magical spells. In short, the weapon could be used for any of the three styles of combat and, more to the point, can use all of them at once.

Lisayer raised the weapon, which he named Lifesinger, and loosed a single arrow at the Avatar. Bandos caught the arrow by the shaft. His voice sounded again. "So be it."

The battle had begun.

The four allies surrounded the Avatar. With the combination of all three styles of combat being used against him, Bandos could not effectively guard against them all, and some blows landed. Sensing that most damage was done by Ilana's Zarosian magic, Bandos unleashed powerful Magicks of his own upon her. If not for Jekeel's armor, she would have perished on the spot.

The powerfully destructive spells seemed to have weakened the Avatar, and in the hope of buying time to regain some power, he animated one of the ogre statues that surrounded the room. Bandos expected his foes to be terrified at being attacked by his surroundings, and would all focus on the familiar. He did not expect it when the immense melee warrior, Animous, laughed. "I can handle this pathetic creature easily," he said with a bloodthirsty grin. He left the Avatar and fought the statue. Lisayer switched to melee combat only to fill the gap left by Animous.

Jekeel's arrows had very little effect on the God. Range, as the style of combat that intrinsically causes the least damage, with few exceptions, was the easiest for the God to resist. Jekeel reluctantly dropped out of the fight and equipped his crossbow and the enchanted bolts. The God may have been able to resist the damage from the bolts themselves, but the release of magic that followed was far more difficult to negate, and they took their toll on the Avatar. When Animous defeated the statue he was fighting and returned to the battle, Bandos felt desperate.

The Avatar animated all of the surrounding statues. The four fighters suddenly faced an army that was thousands of monsters strong. Ogres and goblins and giants suddenly sprang to life and attacked. Animous and Jekeel were immediately brought down, though wards placed by Lisayer saved their lives. Ilana had two thoughts, simultaneously. The first is, _I am about to die._ The second: _I _cannot_ die! For Estalri!_ She reached into herself and found her righteous rage. She raised her staff... and the statues perished. The blood barrage slaughtered them all, and healed the witch who cast it at the same time. She then began tending to her fallen comrades.

Lisayer turned on the now incredibly weak Avatar. He raised Lifesinger and began casting a spell. Milliseconds from the spell's completion, he expertly nocked an arrow and released it, striking like lightning with the sword immediately afterward. All three attacks landed at the same instant. The God fell.

He turned around and immediately aided Ilana in healing his friends. When they rose to their feet, they each had the same question: Is the God dead?

"No. Our teamwork triumphed, there is no question. You need only look at how the battle unfolded to know that without any one of us, we would have all perished." The three new allies were loathe to admit it, but Lisayer was right. Together, they were capable of far greater than what they could accomplish alone. "But," Lisayer continued, "The God is not dead. We have merely broken his hold over this world. But that in and of itself is a great accomplishment! It is not likely that Bandos will _ever _regain the level of power he once held. We have succeeded, my friends, and my weapon, Lifesinger, has been empowered as we had hoped. I can only pray now that, in the future, if any of us need aid in any of our quests, we shall not hesitate to ask each other, and that those asked will not hesitate to arrive."

And so it was. Each of the new friends aided each other when possible and called upon each other when necessary. Even Ilana, who felt herself the most powerful fighter of the group, called on the others. But only once. Still, the souls of the four were permanently linked.

And so The Avengers were formed.


	10. Chapter Six: The Present and a Future

Chapter 6: Return to the Present and a Glimpse of a Future

Bobby listened intently to each of the three stories; more intently, he felt, than the three would've liked or ever caught on to. In other words, he examined each tale in detail and pulled as much information as he could from the tales about their characters. Reading between the lines, he thought he gained enough of an idea of what his new allies were like. He certainly knew that he needed to keep an eye on Ilana, because the fact that Lisayer saw "goodness in her eyes" meant nothing to him. It would be all too perfect if she were actually Saint Dane in disguise. It would have a certain symmetry to it. Naturally, he suspected everyone he came in contact with of being the demon, but something about Ilana just screamed, "evil!" Forget the fact that she worshiped the Gielinorian God of Death and Destruction, it was her eyes. Lisayer saw "goodness", Bobby saw ice. The creature behind those eyes was capable of things that he did not want to imagine. Yes, he would certainly need to keep an eye on Ilana.

He and his friends went to bed. Each of the other four knew precisely which room in the house they could use, suggesting that they had all occupied it multiple times, and Bobby was shown to his room by the Demonic Butler. He wondered, vaguely, in his sleep-deprived state, where the butler slept, and if he even had a room in the house, or if he just went back to the Gielinor version of Hell. When he went into his room and turned around to thank the demon, the butler was gone. _Must be back in Hell_, Bobby thought.

Bobby collapsed onto his bed, and as he had half expected, he could not fall asleep. There were too many questions blazing through his mind. _Can I trust the girl sleeping just one room over? What is Saint Dane up to here? What powers may he have kept hidden if he is indeed this "Zamorak"? Why is Gielinor so different than Halla? What exactly _are_ the differences? What can be the consequences of losing here in Gielinor? What and where is the Azeir? What is so important about it? Why is Halla so _un_important? _And then a question that he had refused to think about until then. _If those who travel to other realms of the Nether can be trapped there, will I ever return home? _Finally, he thought about Courtney. And Mark. And his family. And Second Earth. And he was able to fall asleep.

But his sleep was not a peaceful one. What started as a dream quickly turned into a nightmare. _He stood alone in a beautiful land. Rolling meadows spread as far he could sea. The sky and an oddly placed sea were full of colors he had never seen before. When he would focus on any individual color, they all would disappear, and he would see a vision of one of the territories of Halla, and sometimes of Gielinor. It was peace beyond imagining. And when he looked back from the mysterious visions, he was not alone. He was surrounded by his Traveler friends. They were happy to see each other, and Bobby was overjoyed to see them again, particularly a broad-shouldered knight with an unceasingly happy smile and a beautiful, dark-skinned warrior girl with a staff strapped to her back. _

_A deep voice then spoke. _Siry Remudi! _The voice sounded inside the minds of the people gathered. Then turned and saw an ancient man, an entity as old as life itself. A man whose face veered between expressions of kindness and cruelty, as if the slightest provocation could bring either to light in a fearsome way. Siry was drawn forward, unable to control his own body; the will of the mysterious speaker was too powerful. The voice continued. _You have failed in your task of preserving the soul of the Nether. The punishment for your crime shall be worse than Death: Dissolution. _And Siry Remudi was gone. And with it, one of the colors vanished from the sky and the sea. Bobby looked again and to his horror, no matter what color he looked at, the territory of Ibara was gone. _

Patrick Mac!_ And the process continued. After Patrick came Elli Winter and then Aja Killian. Kasha. Gunny. Spader. Loor. Alder. And finally, Bobby was alone. But one color_ was_ left in the sky and the sea, though the land where Bobby found himself was still just as beautiful. And yet, it seemed an empty beauty, a false beauty, cold and unyielding. And when the entity gave his sentence this time, he added but one last phrase. _I regret it._ And the colors were gone._

Bobby's apparent death woke him. And as he woke, nine other remarkable individuals in Halla awoke with a start as well.

In no time at all, Bobby had forgotten the events of the nightmare. He knew that he had witnessed something horrible in his head, but the details of it slipped away. He began to wonder if he even had dreamed at all. When he got up, he realized he had slept a mere four hours. And yet he knew that he would not be able to go back to sleep. He left his bed and began to search for a bathroom. As he passed the chapel room, he was surprised to see Lisayer there, on his knees, deep in prayer. When he found the bathroom, he took a long, hot shower and by the time he stepped out, he was wide awake and feeling refreshed.

Though it had been at least an hour since he had passed by, Lisayer had not moved. The depths of his devotion startled Bobby. He meandered over to the kitchen, hoping to fix himself a quick breakfast. As he entered the room, the butler appeared, and offered to make it for him. He sounded affronted; he seemed to consider Bobby's actions a criticism on his skills of hospitality.

A short while later, Bobby, having finished his delicious meal of foods that he had never heard of, returned to his room to do a short workout while waiting for the others to arise from their slumbers. He reflected that Lisayer would probably be the one who awakes last. But Lisayer had just left the chapel as Bobby walked over to take a quick look.

"How's it going, Bobby? Sorry I couldn't be a better host when woke up, but I didn't think you'd be up so early. In any case, it would be blasphemy to interrupt my prayers under anything but the most dire circumstances."

"It's fine. I enjoyed some time to myself. I needed a chance to think while not being totally exhausted like last night. Nice house, by the way. I never got the chance to tell you before. Must've been expensive."

"Indeed. It cost me many hundreds of millions of coins. The dungeon was a particularly expensive component, but I feel it is necessary to expand the house to the full capabilities of what it can offer. You never know what may be useful."

"So how long ago did you buy it?"

"...Buy it? Oh, of course. I forgot, you don't know. Most, if not all, houses in Gielinor were built by their owners. The isolated areas of land are directly linked to our souls, so selling is almost impossible."

"So you built this mansion by _hand_?" Bobby asked, stunned."That must have taken forever."

"Yes, but there was a certain amusement about it. I found the work very fun, just building and building until I thought of a new thing that I could be able to build. Inspiration just struck me every so often. The time factor was helped by my butler, who could carry materials to and from the bank for me."

The Demonic Butler, who was listening nearby, bowed.

Lisayer then said, without turning around, "Ah, I do believe the other Avengers are awake."

"_Please_ stop calling us that. Call us your associates or your allies or even your friends. Hearing 'The Avengers' makes me sick."

"And good morning to you to, Ilana," Lisayer said, still without turning around. Bobby sensed they had been through this dance before. Joined by the other two Avengers, Bobby went with the still bickering friends to the dining room table. But the arguing had an odd tone to it. It seemed almost as if they didn't mean a word of what they were saying. It wasn't easy to notice, but it as almost like they were _…flirting_ with each other. This made Bobby suspect Ilana even more. It was just like Saint Dane to do something like that.

The Demonic Butler served breakfast to the Gielinorians, and they began once again to discuss their plans for the future.

"So," Bobby began, "You said I needed to become more 'acquainted' with Gielinor?"

"Yes," Lisayer replied, all business once more. "Each of my _allies,_" he paused here with a pointed look at Ilana, who glared at him. He continued, "Shall take you wherever they wish to teach you the skills they are the most adept at. Since you are already somewhat familiar with melee fighting, it is my wish that you start with Animous first. Unless you see it differently, that should be the style that you specialize in."

Bobby thought about that. "No, I disagree. I'll go with Animous first, but I think I should specialize in Magic. Look, we're fighting gods here. They probably have powers beyond our wildest dreams. They're not going to be beat easily with a sword. Besides, the better we understand the powers that they use, the easier it will be to beat them. I think I should focus on magic, therefore," he concluded.

Lisayer seemed to suspect that Bobby's given reasons were not the ones the he really believed in. "In general, it is not good to act or make decisions without a full knowledge of the facts. Remember the battle with Bandos? Melee did its part in damaging and defeating the god."

Ilana silenced him with a glare, then turned to Bobby, as if seeing him in a new light. "I like this guy," she said, almost to herself. "He can see sense."

Bobby laughed along with Ilana at that, but the wheels of his mind were turning. He thought bitterly that if there were facts that he was not given that were pertinent to the decision, he blamed Lisayer for withholding them. He realized that he would need to keep an eye on Lisayer and make sure he told the whole truth. On the subject of keeping an eye on people, he was glad he was getting on Ilana's good side, as that would make it easier to learn about her and about her intentions, which was one of the main _real_ reasons he wanted to focus on magic. But the most important reason was that he simply _wanted_ to learn magic. Magic was what set this world apart from his. He wanted nothing more than to be able to clap his hand and freeze his enemies; to be able to speak an incantation and instantly be wherever he wished; to wave a wand and communicate with anyone in all of Gielinor. And maybe, he realized with a start, people _elsewhere_ in the Nether.

Lisayer then said, "I still feel that you need to start with Animous, as swordsmanship will be quicker to master for you, as you know a bit about it already."

In an attempt to keep Lisayer happy and feeling in control, Bobby nodded his head graciously and said, "Sounds like a plan."

Wordlessly, Animous left where he was standing next to Jekeel, with whom Bobby only just registered he had been whispering intently. "Come," he commanded. He and Bobby traveled through a portal, and were off to train...


	11. Chapter Seven: In the Palm of Your Hand

Chapter Seven: In the Palm of Your Hand

Bobby was completely disoriented by the trip through the portal. Though more ordinary, it was very different than the flume; he just stepped through and was gone. God knows where he could've been. Bobby looked around, though, and found he was in Lumbridge once more. Animous turned toward him.

"Bobby, I am a man of action. It's my belief that talking is usually a waste of time, so I will only say this once.

I am here to teach you how to create and use a sword. I will not teach you any garbage about 'The Way of the Sword' because the sword is not a way of life. It is far simpler than that. One who knows how to use a sword well will know that the sword is nothing more and nothing less than Fate. The sword is life and death in the palm of your hand. The true Swords, swords with power, swords beyond our ability to create, swords that from realms unknown, swords such as mine, are not mere steel; they are thinking, living creatures. And if you have a strong connection with such a sword, if it chooses you, you can harness its true abilities.

But before you can use a real Sword, you must be able to use the crude, mortal replications of them. And even still, the best results will come if you yourself make the sword. To that end, I shall take you into various mines and teach you to extract your materials, refine them, forge your weaponry, and use it. Follow me." 

Animous led Bobby south, down the one road in the swamp village. The road led them into the swamp proper. As Bobby looked toward the west, he shuddered at the thought of what might be lurking inside. Across the river to the east, Bobby vaguely thought he saw a desert. The road took them far south. They saw little along the way save for some fishermen. Eventually, they reached a small, hallowed out area with a number of oddly colored rocks jutting out of the ground.

Animous showed Bobby how to identify mineable rocks by the color of the rocks or else by colored veins crawling all over the rocks. He then produced a simple, bronze pick. He demonstrated to Bobby how precisely to strike the rock with the pick to break it open. Then, by striking the core of the rocks, you can extract the precious metals from inside. Animous struck the rock with such force that it broke open instantly and the ore could be extracted. Bobby then approached the rock confidently.

He took a swing at the rock... and it barely made a scratch. Animous looked at him smugly. Bobby then realized that Animous was either much, much stronger than he was, or else a miner so experienced that he could notice and exploit the flaws in the simple rock almost instantly. Or both. It took Bobby three hours to extract the ore, which Animous told him was merely copper. He then took Bobby to a different rock with dull, grey veins. Two hours later, Bobby held tin ore. Animous spoke again.

"It took you longer than I'd hoped, but there you have it. Now, that there is enough ore to make one bronze bar. You will need about fifteen bars to make the armor you need, so you will need 14 more ores of each. Wake me when you are done."

He leaned against a rock and fell asleep. He seemed to know that this task would take forever for the inexperience miner, and it pissed Bobby off. He worked at the rocks in a frenzy, determined to be done before Animous woke up. But despite the fact that he worked himself down to ten minutes a rock, he still needed three more of each when Animous woke. As the master continued to watch, the apprentice worked until he finally rent the last rock with a single blow, just as Animous had done.

Satisfied, Animous took him out of the swamp and up north to the village once more and over to a furnace. Wordlessly, he demonstrated to Bobby how to spot the flaws in the metal, and also how to solidify the ores into the bronze alloy. Using the mould in the furnace, Bobby was soon able to create 15 bronze bars. Animous then led him to an anvil in his home city of Varrock. It was a rather long run, but Bobby was determined to be the equal to Animous in terms of endurance. He failed, but at least it was only a few minutes before Bobby caught up with Animous at the city.

Animous went to the walls of the smithy and removed a simple sword. He showed this to Bobby, what would be the finishing product of his first creation. Bobby took the metal to the anvil and began forging the sword, with careful instruction from Animous. It took hours of work, but the metal eventually yielded and turned itself into the shape that Bobby desired. Bobby worked through the night, but when he was done, he was delighted to be holding a full set of bronze armor. It had taken a solid 20 hours of work, but the results were worth it. Animous told him, though, that there was one last step. Bobby sighed, but was too eager to see the properly finished product that he didn't mind the run back down to Lumbridge. They returned to the furnace where Animous intended to make his final demonstration: He took the armor that Bobby had made... and threw it into the furnace, destroying it completely.

There is, regrettably, no word in the English language that one can use to describe just how monumentally furious Bobby was.

Animous listened to his pupil's protestations silently then, when Bobby finally took a breath, spoke. "I had been told that you were able to use weapons and armor up to adamant. Therefore, there would be no sense in having you train with that worthless bronze garbage. But it was necessary for you to improve your skills in mining and forging, for you have had no experience on that score. Now stop whining; we have much work to do and little time in which to do it."

Bobby fell silent, knowing that the damage was done, and there was no point in arguing. The pair walked east and crossed the River Lum. They passed through a gate and found themselves in the desert. Animous took Bobby north in the blistering heat to a much larger mine than what Bobby had been in before. This mine was infested with scorpions, but Animous was evidently intimidating enough that they left the pair alone. Here, Bobby could see that there were many more varieties of ore to be mined.

Animous set Bobby to work mining iron first. He then gave different instructions on how many of each different ore to mine, much to Bobby's consternation; the number was never less than 15, and the ores became steadily harder and harder to mine. Periodically, Animous would stop him and hand him a stronger pickaxe which made the task easier. First, Bobby mined about 65 iron ores, a number that hardly seemed fair to Bobby. Then, he mined 20 apiece gold and silver. But Animous merely pocketed this ore, much to Bobby's displeasure. Then Bobby was set an impossible task: 270 coal ores. Animous explained that coal is necessary for higher-quality metals, as Bobby will soon understand. After that ordeal, Bobby found the simple 15 of each, mithril, adamantite, and runite a breeze.

They traveled into a desert town that Animous called al-Kharid. Near the south of town was a furnace, and Bobby set to work on the iron ore. The ore seemed easier to refine into bars that the copper and tin, but Bobby then realized that less than half of the ore actually refined into usable bars. The rest were too "impure", as Animous put it. In the end, out of 50 ore, he refined a mere 20. Animous took 5, and gave the rest to Bobby. Then, Animous taught Bobby the technique of combining ores with steel to create stronger alloys, such as steel. This alloy worked 100% of the time, so he would not lose any ores. The remaining 15 iron ores were successfully converted into 15 steel bars. The same could be said for the mithril, adamantite, and, to Animous' astonishment, the runite.

Rather than run back to Varrock, Animous handed Bobby a teleport tablet and took one for himself, muttering as he did so about how he just couldn't bear to run, that it just made no sense. The pair of them broke their tablets and appeared in Varrock. The work was unbearably grim. Bobby worked for 36 hours straight to make the iron, steel, and mithril armor sets, only to watch Animous destroy them as he had done the bronze. The adamant bars took another 12 hours, and after a short break (caused by Bobby collapsing from exhaustion), he set to work on the rune bars. But Bobby soon found that the rune bars simply would not yield. It took him hours before he could make even a dent in the first bar. It took him three whole days, with occasional breaks, Animous recognizing that Bobby was not as strong as he (which did not help Bobby's already low morale on Gielinor), to create the full set of armor.

Animous took Bobby to the duel arena, where he himself had learned to fight. He explained to Bobby that anyone who was _taught_ to fight had a bad teacher. Everyone's fighting style was different, and it is typically better to have less of a teacher and more of a highly experienced sparring partner with whom you could practice and refine your own style. The mentor would step in whenever certain mistakes in technique were made, but for the most part, the student learned on his own. Animous told Bobby, therefore, that he would spar with him for as long as it took for Bobby to win a bout with his adamant armor and then another with his rune armor. Then and only then would Bobby be a fit fighter, able to aid The Avengers on their quests.

Bobby had never fought with metal armor, and the drop in his speed and agility was an almost insurmountable barrier for him. But the green adamant armor was not unmanageable for Bobby, and soon he was up to his normal level of speed. But defeating this master swordsman was another matter. It wasn't until Bobby used his sword to throw dirt and dust into his teacher's eyes that Bobby was able to win. Bobby apologized for his dirty move, but Animous waved him off.

"There are no _'_rules' to battle if they are not agreed upon before the start of the bout. And there is nothing 'dirty' about using your surroundings to aid your cause. It was a good move. In fact, it was the move I was waiting for you to make. Use your surroundings to your advantage; the first lesson of battle."

But then Bobby donned the rune armor for their second bout, and he could hardly move. It took him a great deal of effort to take a step or even raise his sword arm. After a lot of hard training and short, painful bouts in the duel arena, Bobby was once again back to his normal speed and agility. He looked over his body and was stunned at the muscles that had developed.

But fighting Animous would be a difficult prospect. Although he tried it, the trick with the dirt would not work twice. He fought and fought and fought and lost and lost and lost. Finally, in desperation, he changed his style of fighting. He stopped with the more graceful slashes and cuts and focused on overpowering stabs and thrusts, eventually resorting to hitting Animous on the top of the head with the pommel of his sword. The change in style disrupted Animous' concentration, and Bobby soon found an opening and took it, winning a bout.

Animous smiled. "That is the second lesson: Whoever said to try and try again if at first you don't succeed was a moron. Be adaptive. Adjust to the battle around you. Don't be rigid in your combat. You have done well, and now, I have a gift for you." He reached into his pack and pulled out blood-red armor similar to the kind he wore, although considerably less heavy; a chain-mail body rather than a plate body; a medium helm rather than a full helm. He also extracted a long halberd that he said would fit Bobby's style perfectly. Bobby thanked Animous and donned the armor and Animous said, "Get used to it quickly. We have work to do..."


	12. Chapter Eight: To Slay a God

Chapter Eight: The Sword that Could Slay a God

Bobby was pissed. He had just worked for days on end, making brutal armor and and learning to use it well. His only rest was when he collapsed from exhaustion. His miserable tasks were done and he had expected a nice respite from any work as a reward. But no. Animous had more work for him to do.

"Long ago, while Guthix slept, a great and terrible war was fought between the gods Saradomin, Zamorak, Bandos, and Armadyl," Animous said as he attempted to explain the importance of the quest they would be undertaking. "It started out with Zamorak standing alone, against the other three gods, each of whom did not want to see Zamorak with any power whatsoever, but that did not last. Distrust between Saradomin, Armadyl, and Bandos led to a four-way war.

"Though Bandos was the god of war, Zamorak was, and is, far more cunning than he. It soon became clear the the Zamorakian forces would overrun the others, and then the world. The other three gods banded together once more, and they created a blade. A sword of power so great that they believed it could destroy even a god. A minion of Armadyl was charged with the task of bringing the blade to the battleground, it was ambushed by Zamorakians and the blade stolen. Distrust between the gods spread once more, as each believed themselves betrayed, and fighting ensued once more. At one point, Zamorak cast a deadly spell that laid waste to the lands of the far north. At that moment, we do not know how, Guthix was awakened from his slumber, and he ended the war. But the minions of the gods continued to fight, and so Guthix sealed them underground, where their battle could not harm the world any further. The Godsword was sealed with them.

"Until recently. A cavern to the surface opened. The combatants may not leave, but we may enter. I have been inside the dungeon many times on my own, and I have extracted the three shards of the blade, which was broken. But to get the hilt, I will require your assistance, as it is possessed by K'ril Tsutsaroth, General of Zamorak, and none alone can defeat him."

"But why," Bobby asked, "Do we need this sword if Lifesinger was empowered by Bandos and can kill a god itself?"

"Because to rely solely on this one weapon in battle is a terrible blunder, one that could yet be our undoing. Neither's Ilana's magic nor Jekeel's mere arrows could cause harm to a god itself, merely its avatar, and the Godsword is one of few blades capable of causing damage. If something should happen to Lisayer, we would perish without this blade."

But Bobby sensed a different motive. _Animous just wants to be the hero! Or, at least, to ensure that his deeds are greater than Ilana's and Jekeel's._ But Bobby sensed the need to have the sword anyway, and he consented to the plan.

"There is more you need to know, though," said Animous. "The generals are each in their separate chambers, aside from the main battleground. We will not be able to access K'ril Tsutsaroth's room easily. We must go there and join the carnage, and when an opening appears, we shall take it. But you must be careful. War is far different than a one-on-one battle. You must be aware of your entire surroundings, ready for a strike from one you may never have known to be your enemy. Furthermore, though the Saradominists will know me and will not attack us, we shall also have to contend with minions of Armadyl and Bandos, not just Zamorak. Your halberd will be of use on that score."

Bobby understood, and they set off. Interestingly, they went not to the far north, as Animous had described, but to the Desert. Animous went to a bank and retrieved various items and potions, many of which he gave to Bobby. He then took out an odd pouch summoned a large, smelly beast which he called a pack yak, and he had it hold many more potions. Bobby tried to ask how he brought forth the creature, but Animous seemed to only give out information on a need-to-know basis. They then walked north, where short man stood guard over an odd sort of glider. Animous explained that he had an understanding with the gnomes after having saved them from destruction countless times. He, and his allies, could use their gliders whenever and wherever he needed to. And thus, they flew to the north, both sharing the one glider.

They arrived just a few steps south of an icy path that led further north. Animous stopped there. "This path is perilous, and your endurance will be strongly tested. Whenever you begin to feel weak, drink some of this pink potion, and it will restore you. When we join the battle, you will undoubtedly take some hits, even _I_ will. When you feel close to death, drink some of this yellow potion. It was blessed by Saradomin and will heal you, as well as strengthen you so that your enemies will not be able to hit as effectively. However, your ability to attack accurately and with power will be _decreased_. As such, for every two doses of the Saradomin Brew you take, you must drink of the Super Restore potions. Just drop the empty vials when you're done with them, and take more potions from the pack yak when you need it."

Once again, Bobby began to ask questions, but Animous had already turned around and began walking up the path. Evidently, Bobby didn't need to know any more. So he followed. The trek was worse than Animous had made it sound, and he used far fewer restore potions than Bobby did. Eventually, they reached an open area with a large hole, and Animous threw a rope down. He was about to descend, and then he turned to Bobby with fear in his eyes for the first time since Bobby knew him.

"You have not been trained in the arts of prayer! I had forgotten." He seemed very alarmed, which surprised Bobby. What use was prayer?

When he voiced this sentiment, Animous waved him off. "You forget, the true gods of the Nether are the gods known only to Gielinorians, not the gods of your Halla. Prayers there would, of course, be ineffective, but here, praying to gods grants you extraordinary boosts in battle. We almost rely on them to survive. Furthermore, your inability to pray properly will put you at a disadvantage against other warriors down there, although, ironically, the god's own minions cannot use prayer. This may turn out very badly for you indeed..."

Bobby was a little relieved. He was dreading entering this tunnel and was grateful for the excuse to not do it. He started to turn around but was horrified to see Animous descending the rope anyway!

"Well," Animous said, "We still need to do this. You were well trained, and you have a unique fighting style, as it should be. You'll live. And that's all we need, isn't it?"

While not at all comforted, Bobby had no choice but to enter the dungeon as he could not find his way back to Lisayer's home without Animous, nor did he want to return without him and be seem a coward. So, he climbed down the rope...

Horrifyingly, what reached him first of the battle below before anything else was not the sounds nor the sight but the smell. The smell of blood and death that lay below. But still, he kept climbing. At the bottom, the sounds of anger, agony, metal on metal, and death were almost too much for Bobby, but he forced himself to work through it. He followed Animous over to a corner of the room, and Animous pointed out the various monsters that he was meant to focus on, the creatures of Zamorak: Imps, fiends, zombies, werewolves, and what Animous called Bloodvelds were the Zamorakians. Bobby fought and fought and fought. He was used to this by now, but never for so long.

Countless enemies fell before his blade, but he was nothing in comparison to Animous. No creature could stand in his path for more than a second before it was felled. He seemed to target other warriors, particularly those wearing Zamorakian garb, and none stood a chance. And once, just once, Bobby could have sworn he saw Animous' blade, quick and blinding, just like lightning, summon real electricity to smite his foes. The monster died instantly.

Bobby let his mind lull into a void inside him. He did not think, feel, or even act consciously, just on instinct. It took a moment between when Animous shouted at him to follow and he registered the command and acted upon it. Animous had spotted an opening, and he and Bobby sprinted toward it. Animous dove into an icy river and Bobby, hesitantly, followed. The swim was brutal, but the other side was calm, almost scarily so compared to the carnage on the other side.

Animous then spoke. "Bobby, there are four demons in this fortress, each of whom must be defeated, and by you. I will focus on K'ril Tsutsaroth, the biggest demon, the general. The commanders will recognize me by my Saradomin Sword and focus on me. I can only pray against one type of combat at a time and resist it fairly well. Therefore, you must defeat the demons that use the other styles, and quickly. Start with the one that uses magical attacks, as his will do the most damage. Then the ranged demon, and then the melee demon. After defeating the lesser demons, focus on K'ril. I suspect he will only attack me, but be careful. Use the Saradomin Brews. They may save you." With that, he stepped forward into the main chamber, and let K'ril Tsutsaroth see him.

"It is you..." the demon said with a low, gravelly voice. "I knew that you would come. It is futile. Even if you contrive to defeat me, you have no hope of surviving in the end."

"Words spoken by the vanquished have no power," Animous replied. And he leapt into battle. The first blow was blocked by K'ril easily, and the demon struck Animous with a vicious, debilitating blow. But the odd potions seemed to do their job, and Animous kept fighting. This time, there was no question: Lightning flew from his blade, dealing horrible damage to the demon. As if this were all merely a preliminary act, the battle now began in earnest.

Animous spoke his prayer, and the demon's claws did less and less harm with each blow. Occasionally, K'ril used a magical attack, but it did not seem to cause Animous a great amount of injury. But every so often, K'ril Tsutsaroth would hit a devastating attack quite like the first, and Animous himself would be able to cast his lightning. Due to Animous' potions, it seemed he would win with ease, but then the three other demons stepped forward and joined the battle. Bobby then entered the chamber himself and, as he had been ordered, attacked the demon casting spells.

The demon was taken off-guard by Bobby's sudden appearance, but he recovered quickly. For a time, he continued to attack Animous, but he eventually realized that Bobby was the greater threat to him personally, and switched targets. Bobby could see why Animous wanted the magic-user eliminated; magic spells can boil you alive when you wear armor, apparently. This all made Bobby fear Ilana all the more. But for all the damage that the mage did, Bobby healed himself with his potions. The halberd did it's task well, and the mage was soon defeated. He then turned himself toward the ranger.

The arrows seemed to have little effect against Animous' strong armor, but if he could only pray against one type of combat, the archer would have to be removed. The demon immediately turned to attack Bobby, knowing that Bobby's armor would provide weaker defense against the arrows. But Bobby would not be denied. With a vicious swipe of the halberd, he removed one of the demon's arms, making it unable to shoot the arrows. The demon attempted to fight him using just his fists, or rather, fist, but Bobby had no trouble beheading the monster from there.

But the final demon was a different matter. It was now fully aware of Bobby's capabilities, and trusted its master to take down Animous. This demon was clever and had studied Bobby's fighting style. Bobby could not land a single blow. He almost despaired, but he remembered his lessons from Animous; adapt, be creative. Bobby changed his fighting style and landed many blows upon the demon. When the demon adapted himself, Bobby changed the fighting style _again_. The demon was no match for Bobby, but then Bobby became aware of a terrible fact.

K'ril Tsutsaroth had unleashed a magic attack that was very effective, moreso than his previous ones, and then he hit a devastating blow on Animous, through his prayers, nearly killing him. Animous was drinking the potions, but he could not keep up with the demon's furious blows, not when he had to constantly drink and alternate potions to keep his skills up.

In short, he was losing.

Bobby tried to reach K'ril and hold him off, but the demon he was fighting, as near death as he was, would not let him leave. Animous fell to the ground, and Bobby's anger grew. Anger at the demon. Anger at _himself_ for being so weak. As the moment of helplessness overwhelmed him, his halberd acted almost of its own accord. He swept it (or did it sweep itself?) through the demon he was fighting, cleaving it in two, and on further, into K'ril Tsutsaroth. The demon general was distracted and it turned away from Animous, attacking Bobby. The demon's claws tore through him like he was wet tissue. He realized now what Animous meant about prayer and the disadvantage his lack thereof created for him. K'ril prepared itself for it's critical blow. It readied itself to kill Bobby. At that moment, lightning struck the demon.

Animous was back on his feet. Together, the two of them had no trouble defeating the monster. And when it died, the Hilt of the Godsword lay among his remains. Animous handed Bobby a tablet and broke one himself. When Bobby broke his, he found himself at Lisayer's home. It was late at night, and Bobby collapsed on the floor.

When Bobby awoke the next morning, he was in his bed from before. He went out into the parlor and saw Animous there, clutching a blade and staring at it reverently. Bobby _felt_ the power emanating from it. The Godsword was back.

Seeing Bobby, Animous spoke. "Bobby, you saved my life. And our mission was a success. The Godsword has become my blade, but my old sword, Bobby, it is yours to keep."

Bobby was stunned, delighted to accept a blade of such power. But has he reached for it, he saw his halberd in a corner of the room. Animous' words echoed in his mind. T_he true Swords, swords with power, swords beyond our ability to create, swords that come from realms unknown, swords such as mine, are not mere steel; they are thinking, living creatures. And if you have a strong connection with such a sword, if it chooses you, you can harness its true abilities..._ Bobby remembered the way that he killed the third demon, and how it struck with such strength...Bobby felt a strange reluctance to part with the halberd. So, he humbly and politely refused Animous' offer.

Animous smiled and said, "Bobby Pendragon, you have passed."


End file.
